


Daily Dilemmas

by genmitsu



Series: Imagination Infection [6]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, More angst, all of the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 18:36:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15516069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genmitsu/pseuds/genmitsu
Summary: Jim is facing his feelings properly. Well, for him.___Jim wishes he could do something, anything, to rectify this situation, because there’s nothing good about it. How could there be? He hurt the person who always cared about him, moreover, he drove him away with his cowardice and lies, and now both of them are hurting, and Jim doesn’t know if it affects Oswald’s regular life, but it sure affects his.





	Daily Dilemmas

 

 

Jim wishes he could do something, anything, to rectify this situation, because there’s nothing good about it. How could there be? He hurt the person who always cared about him, moreover, he drove him away with his cowardice and lies, and now both of them are hurting, and Jim doesn’t know if it affects Oswald’s regular life, but it sure affects his.

He cannot concentrate on his cases when he thinks about Oswald and his words. When he thinks about how he should’ve been braver. But what can he possibly do? Apologizing didn’t seem to placate Oswald in the slightest, not that Jim hoped it would, but it was the least he could do for him right away. The right thing to do, too. But to really make up for it… there’s gotta be something more than just “sorry”.

Deeds are better than words, and Jim was never particularly good with words anyway, that’s Oswald’s area and forte, that silver tongue of his always saving him - or getting him in trouble. Jim keeps his ear to the ground, hoping to pick up something that would clue him in to what Oswald is doing, or if he might do something for him, but it’s been quiet so far. No killings, no shady deals. Nothing. His empire is suspiciously quiet, and Jim doesn’t want to poke around it too much because Oswald has always been great at being informed about the goings-on in Gotham, the best informant Jim could ever have, and right now it works against him. But maybe, Jim thinks, he’s overestimating his importance to Oswald and he would actually not be bothered to know Jim’s keeping tabs on him. After all, Jim is a cop. He’s _expected_ to keep tabs on criminals, especially as notorious as the Penguin. As Oswald should actually keep tabs on policemen to know when to keep a low profile so he must be watching Jim as it is.

This is a deadlock, but also Jim doubts he is overestimating. Oswald’s eyes still haunt him, the piercing feeling in his chest never leaving, and there’s no way that Oswald doesn’t think of him, after that… But the best he can do for Oswald is give him space. It’s the best solution for both of them, let the initial pain dull and fade, let them both calm down, even if it’s the opposite of what Jim actually wants to do.

He keeps remembering Oswald’s words from their texts, how he revealed more of himself as he thought he was talking to a stranger, being honest about his feelings - and even more honest when he faced Jim. How could Oswald be so brave, how could he so openly admit his deepest truths, just where did that strength of character originate from? Why could he be so sincere and accepting of Jim while Jim was a twisted, lying, conflicted mess? Undeserving of the sun’s magnanimity.

Meeting Oswald tilted Jim’s world and getting closer to him rocked it entirely. It’s like their positions are flipped, and Oswald, criminal boss, gangster, killer Oswald is the high-moral hero of the story, while Jim, a cop, an upstanding citizen, is the lowly antagonist. Did he think of Oswald as ‘lowly’ before?

No. Never, even when Jim was infuriated with him and his schemes. But for Jim, the word fits.

He groans, running his hand through his hair in irritation. This is affecting him so much, it’s almost ridiculous. The case. He has to work this case. It’s important and gruesome enough - a serial killer targeting teenagers, he already claimed the lives of three boys and two girls, all various age and background, and that’s on top of Gotham’s usual brand of crazy with guys like the Riddler about robbing banks and the followers of the Red Hood resurfacing again with terrorizing peaceful neighbourhoods and wreaking havoc everywhere just for the sake of it. The captaincy is no walk in the park, and that’s why him getting so bent out of shape over Oswald is detrimental to all aspects of his life.

If only he could somehow tear Oswald out of his head.

Instead, everything brings him back. If it wasn’t for Jim being unable to keep it in his pants, however figuratively, then now he could’ve consulted Oswald about both cases. Oswald surely knows _something._ And Jim could’ve come to him, to his manor, could’ve seen his face light up - Oswald still did it whenever he saw Jim, even if he tried to hide it, but Jim knew anyway. Even after being let down and wronged so many times, Oswald gave him his attention fully, gravitating towards Jim as if despite himself. Would he gravitate towards him now? Would he smile at him, at all? Would he like, would he welcome Jim’s touch, something almost innocent, like a handshake?

The scene unfolds before Jim’s eyes vividly, too vividly. Oswald would be cheeky, loving that he has the upper hand over Jim in this, so he’d joke and smile radiantly, and ask, in that flirty tone of his that’s always half-serious, about what Jim could offer him in return. Jim would be bold, for once in his life, and say that he’ll do whatever Oswald wishes him to. “Anything you want,” he’d say, and shift closer to him. Would Oswald’s breath catch? Would he be caught unprepared? Would he, instead, be braver than both of them so far and ask for, for a kiss? Jim would gladly give him a thousand if it meant that Oswald would be warm in his life again.

The thought shatters the fantasy all too mercilessly. There will be no cheeky banter, no flirting. Jim hurt Oswald so that means he cannot have his warmth, would not be given it, and he can’t kiss him, to speak nothing of the more intimate stuff. He will probably be lucky to even see him any time soon.

God, just _stop thinking_ about him.

The case. Five dead kids, and you’re thinking of boning a gangster, Jim admonishes himself. Focus.

He investigates it, going to his usual CIs, much less useful than Oswald could be, and there’s little progress, and Oswald’s empire is still so quiet, but then he gets a report. An assault on the restaurant owned by one of the old mafia families, those that were backing Falcone, three dead and it’s insolent in the way it’s not even concealed - and witnesses also say there were at least five attackers who took someone away. This is audacious and elusive at once, and Jim knows this was Oswald at work, his signature style all over it in a way that is meant to be noticed, and that means there’s another turf war coming and Jim cannot pretend he’s not seeing it. He has to pay Oswald a visit, it has to be a professional visit, and will he be able to keep his work and his own feelings separate?

Jim doesn’t dress up for this visit, not at all. Just his regular suit, and if it’s his best regular suit, the dark blue one, it’s totally a coincidence. He’s wearing the same cologne too, and it’s probably not his best decision, considering how well scents evoke memories, but… they will have to address it somehow, anyway. He won’t get a better excuse to show up at Oswald’s place than these mafia killings, and Jim doesn’t feel strong or brave enough to go meet him without one. Still the same spineless coward. But… he has to calm himself down or he won’t be able to work his courage up at all, and he needs to, if only to salvage some measure of self-respect.

“Inform your boss I’m here to see him,” he tells the goons greeting him at the door. Jim waits patiently as one of them goes into the other room, and returns with Oswald’s refusal.

“It’s an official police visit,” Jim says firmly. “I will stay here as long as necessary until he is able to spare me the time.”

“Let’s not bother, Detective, shall we?” Oswald appears in the doorway, and Jim’s breath is caught in his throat at the sight. “I have nothing to say to you about anything, nor do I have to. I trust that’s all. Good day.”

“I’m afraid you do have to, as per your civic duty,” Jim says, regretting his words immediately, but Oswald could always wind him up with merely a glance. “I could bring you up on obstruction of justice.”

“Being afraid - doesn’t seem like something unfamiliar to you, Detective,” Oswald says with a slight sneer, making Jim squirm inwardly. “Well. If it’s that official, I plead the Fifth and I don’t have to tell you anything. And if it’s not official, then I don’t have to talk to you at all.”

“Oswald…” Jim says softly, “I know I’ve started this wrong,” and does he mean this conversation or the whole approach, Jim doesn’t know. “But it’s really important that we talk. Please?”

Oswald looks at him, something in his eyes flickering when Jim pleads, and he takes in a deep breath and lets it out quietly.

“Alright. What do you need to talk about?”

Jim looks around, and this dark hallway and two big guys looming nearby is certainly not the setting he wanted for - for any of the things he wants to say.

“Can we talk in private?” he says, hoping against all hope that Oswald would agree.

“So demanding,” Oswald shakes his head. “Well, let’s get this over with. Follow me.”

He turns and starts walking, Jim several steps behind, and now, when they walk through the lit room after the darkness of the hallway, he can finally see him properly, and Jim never appreciated him more. Oswald’s not wearing his suit jacket, his back almost vulnerable now but so impossibly straight one wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking that. Oswald’s clothes are all black, the only embellishments are the glints of his tie pin and the buckles on the leather sleeve garters, his face pale and sharp again, and he’s so excruciatingly beautiful to Jim he can hardly look, blinded.

“So, Detective?” he prompts, when Jim stands speechless before him for far too long after they’ve reached a room, a study of some kind.

“Uh…” Does he start with personal? professional? just what is more important right now, and…

Oswald walks further into the room, putting more distance between them. “You suspect me of being involved in some crime?”

The decision is made for him, and Jim feels a little bit relieved. They shouldn’t… they shouldn’t just plunge into it that fast. He watches Oswald lean against the edge of the desk, momentarily distracted, but he manages to gather his wits about and remember the facts.

“The attack on ‘Tesorino’ yesterday. Do you know about it?”

“I’ve heard,” Oswald says, offering nothing more.

“Are you involved in it?”

“Why do you think I am?”

“I… know you. And the way it’s been done has you all over it,” Jim says, stepping a little closer as he watches Oswald’s expression change ever so slightly. “I need to know what to expect.”

“Well, if you know me, as you claim you do, you should already know this too,” Oswald sneers again. It shouldn’t look this attractive at all.

“Will there be another turf war, Oswald?”

Oswald sighs and keeps his silence. Jim waits patiently, the air in the room so still and quiet it’s oppressing.

“No,” Oswald says at last. “As long as everyone knows who’s in charge.” He measures Jim with his eyes again, before asking, “Is that all?”

Another moment of truth, but now Jim knows how painful cowardice is. His throat is dry and his limbs are suddenly heavy, but he takes another step towards Oswald.

“No,” he says quietly. “I also want to apologize.”

Oswald quirks his eyebrow at him. “You already did.”

“I know,” Jim says, and then the words come spilling in a rush. “But it wasn’t enough, it was only a text and it’s easy to misunderstand them, I, I want to explain - and I really want to apologize properly. To your face.”

“Jim,” Oswald speaks, sending shivers down his spine with the way he says his name. “I understand perfectly. You finally got around to admitting that you… like me, to some extent. You wanted to act on it. But you didn’t want anything to change, not really. So you lied.”

“Yes, but… I didn’t mean anything bad by it!” Bad choice. “I wanted you.” Even worse. “I never meant to hurt you by this. It was only supposed to be fun!” And now he’s done it.

“ _Fun?_..” Oswald asks, and his voice is exceptionally silky. “So I was only to be a-- a _plaything_ for you to entertain yourself with?”

“No!” Jim objects vehemently, stepping closer still, and now there’s only a couple feet between them, and Oswald’s eyes are searing his. “Never something like that!”

“So what was it, Jim, really? Can you tell me that?”

“I…” He is so not ready for this kind of conversation, no matter how long he’s been thinking about it. “...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” Oswald lets out a mirthless laugh. “How perfect! You - don’t know!”

Jim stands in front of him, feeling defeated and turned inside out. Why does his every action backfire so much? Why are his bravery and honesty no different from his cowardice and lies and why does he keep hurting him?

“Was it just physical, Jim?” Oswald asks abruptly, looking at Jim as he braces his hands on the desk behind his back. “Did you only want sex? Because if you did, let’s have it. Let’s get it over with and be on our ways.”

Jim looks at him, stupefied. Is he?..

“You get to do whatever you want, I have no objections to anything,” Oswald continues. “But then you leave me the hell alone.”

Something dark floods Jim, so when he comes to again a second later, he is in front of Oswald, pressing into him as Oswald spreads his legs a little bit further, and Jim fits into that space so perfectly, as if he was always meant to, the heat pooling between them, and his hands are on Oswald’s hips, and Oswald’s breath hitches, and-- is it really happening? His head is dizzy, spinning, the scent of Oswald all around him, and Jim is so painfully, achingly hard, and Oswald’s lips are so enticing and right there next to his, begging to be kissed, begging to be ravaged and licked and bitten, and--

Oswald’s eyes are cold and distant. Even when Jim tightens his hold on his hips, that body exactly what he imagined it to be, still, even then, as Oswald’s skin flushes, as his heartbeat picks up and his breath catches in his throat, he looks… detached. Almost disgusted.

Jim can’t take it. He doesn’t want this for them, never did, he wants Oswald to be truly willing, he wants him - happy for his touch, and while this situation is straight out of his dirtiest fantasies, it’s so much worse than it could possibly be, both explicitly and in implications. He can’t take not having Oswald in his life, and if acting on his desires means he will lose him forever, well… he can keep it in his pants after all.

Jim bends his neck until his forehead rests on Oswald’s chest, just above his madly beating heart, and he sighs, something stinging in his eyes but never spilling out even when he shuts them.

“It was never ‘just physical’, Oswald,” he says quietly, his voice tense. “When I said I wanted you, I wanted all of you. I hated how much I wanted you. I hated how much wanting you _changed_ me when I never wanted to change. But now I know better. And if you wanted to throw me a bone and close the door while I chase it, sorry, not happening.”

He slides his hands off Oswald’s hips and steps back slowly, making himself face Oswald properly. He looks so unbearably enticing and disheveled, - strange, truly, because Jim didn’t mess his clothes at all and he is still so utterly impeccable. His face is alive with emotion Jim can’t place, and maybe it’s not what he needs right now, but he has to say it.

“I am so sorry for making a mess out of this. I didn’t think of how it could affect you, didn’t think you still felt anything for me. I was a coward and a fool and I wasn’t ready to face… any of this.” Jim inhales shakily, searching for the right words and coming up empty. “I… Uh… Thank you for letting me say this.”

He takes one more look at Oswald, and he wants to tell him time and again that he wants that chance, that he hopes Oswald might consider giving him one, but he doesn’t want to press him more than he already did. So Jim just tries to burn the image of Oswald like this in his memory, and then he turns and walks out. Everything is silent around him.

 

Oswald has trouble even thinking of moving from the spot, Jim’s touch and his words shaken him more than he’d like to admit. He closes his eyes. No. There isn’t any chance of him ever forgetting Jim Gordon.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for sticking up with this story so far despite it not being very positive!
> 
> And as always, any feedback is greatly appreciated!


End file.
